And even after all these years, each new moment is as precious and emotionally overwhelming as the first.

The cheers get louder, though hundreds, or thousands, of runners have passed, and you feel something in your heart, or maybe it's your soul, stir because you know they will go by in a second or two.

And even though you vow not to get choked up, not this time, you can't help yourself.

The father pushing his son in the wheelchair makes your eyes well up with tears of awe and admiration and amazement.

Just like it did the first time.

Whenever that was.

For me, it was in Ashland in the mid-1980s, one of the years when runners were diverted off Rte. 135 at Stone Park, then came pouring down Homer Avenue before getting back on Union Street at the DQ.

We were on the corner in front of Telechron, and my kids, then probably 5 and 3, were getting dizzy watching the endless sea of motion pass, and wanted to go across to Dairy Queen. I was feeling very put-upon to have to deal with two children's whininess. Was the end of the pack anywhere in sight?

Then the cheers got louder. The word spread: "They're doing it again.'' And there they were. Dick Hoyt pushing. Rick Hoyt in the chair. And the moment no words adequately convey.

They weren't national legends back then.

Just a man and his special-needs son who had participated in the Boston Marathon a couple of times, and likely some other marathons and iron-man events most of us on the sidewalks in Ashland knew nothing about.

Just a pair whose dedication was impossible to imagine, even as we saw it right in front of us.

Just two people who, without saying a word, could make us realize our sacrifices for our kids aren't all that tough.

How does one fathom love and commitment that strong?

As the years passed, the story of the Team Hoyt became more well known. They started doing speaking engagements, started attracting national and international attention, and, in their more than 1,000 races together, started exemplifying the spirit of "Boston Strong'' long before anyone attempted to copyright the term.

As the years passed, our admiration grew.

And yet, as the years passed, we did the math. If we remember seeing them 20, 30 years ago, back when we were young and our kids were young ... But surely no one is in better shape than Dick Hoyt, even if he has to be what - 60, close to 70? (Actually, 73 this year.) And surely, though we remember Rick had graduated from college and achieved remarkable feats inspiring others, he couldn't be pushing middle age, could he?

Page 2 of 2 - Like another Boston Marathon legend, Johnny Kelley, maybe years didn't matter to the Hoyts somehow.

Or so we thought, although we'd heard they were going to cut back on running as a team.

Last year, it looked like it would be their last Boston together.

The magnificent bronze statue in Hopkinton, unveiled last spring, gave us comfort in knowing even if 2013 did mark the end of an era, the Hoyts would be at the Marathon start to inspire generations to come.

Then, the unthinkable happened. The bombs went off. And Team Hoyt made a vow.

On Monday, they are scheduled to do it one more time.

For the athletes and the victims.

For the race itself and all that is good about this event.

And for all of us who have been touched by those moments we never forget, we thank you, Team Hoyt.

Julia Spitz can be reached at 508-626-3968 or jspitz@wickedlocal.com. Follow her on Twitter at SpitzJ_MW.